


He's no Child

by Skeletal_Parakeet



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletal_Parakeet/pseuds/Skeletal_Parakeet
Summary: Children are vulnerable.  And for a monster this is a very good thing, because a monster is even more vulnerable than a human child.  Seven Children fell below Mt. Ebbot where monster kind was locked away.  The first one became a killer, and the other six were slain by monsters.  It was through fortune that a grown human never fell into the mountain.But if a grown man did fall down the mountain, what would this mean for Mt. Ebbot?  If a grown man fell down the mountain, would he ever have the childlike whimsy and wonder that gave other monsters a chance to be spared?  Would he be too set in his ways to even consider understanding?  If one little child can wreak so much havok, then what dread would a grown person sew in a world of monster?
Kudos: 8





	He's no Child

**Author's Note:**

> My sister an I are big fans of undertale, and the other day we were considering what would have happened if a grown man fell down the mountain instead of a little child. After seeing what a kid can do through a genocide run, then I can only imagine that an adult would be far more deadly and a lot more dangerous. And he probably wouldn't give the monsters too many chances to explain themselves. Children are far more impressionable and grown people are more set in their ways. If a grown man fell down after the sixth soul was collected, rather than the child, it would play out differently.

He opened his eyes. Dark. This was bad. This was very _very_ bad. He needed to get out of here. As he sat up, he'd half expected pain to flood his legs, but to his shock he was perfectly fine.  
It had to be by some miracle. There was no possible way that he could have fallen at that distance and survived, let alone unscathed. Thinking his senses had betrayed him, he took a rough hand and ran it over his leg. He didn't feel numbness or swelling. When he glanced up to the ceiling of the cavern, he barely made out a small glimmering light in the distance. It was at least a hundred feet up. There was no way he'd be able to climb his way out.

"Fuck... _Fuck_ ," he hissed as he clambered his way to his feet, stumbling on the large yellow flower bed below him. For just a moment he had considered that they broke his fall, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It was absurd. _I'm dazed,_ he thought. _Probably just hit my head._ As he slowly pulled himself up, he checked his belongings. He had his phone but the battery was entirely dead. His rifle was still in the sheath on his back and there were a few rounds with him, but most of the ammo was left in the back of the truck. He noted the rabbit he caught got earlier. Rigor mortis had set in, and it seemed it got smooshed in the fall. Ruined. At least he had something if he was worried about starving down there. It could tide him over at least for a short while.

Everyone always warned him that hunting by the mountain was stupid. Still he persisted going there for two reasons—no one was out there, and it was rife with game. At that moment he was starting to wish he hadn't bothered, or at the very least hadn't gone alone. Now he was stuck at least 100 feet below a mountain with a dead phone, a stiff rabbit, and a rifle with barely any rounds left. His stomach curdled at the thought. No one came to the mountain. No one would ever find him even if he called as loud as his lungs would allow. "Fuck!" he shouted as he punched the rocky wall. His voice reverberated in the large carvarn and echoing down chambers then died out to the faint sound of the wind above. The silence was sickening. 

"Oh my. That is not a family friendly word." But that chilled him right to the core. He honestly prefered silence. 

"What?" As the man slowly turned his head, he saw no one was there. It was just him and the yellow flowers. 

"Ya know, we don't like using those words down here. You seem new around these parts." 

He quickly darted around to look behind himself. Nothing. 

"Boy, you really are jumpy. Down here, silly!" 

The man shifted uncomfortably as he looked down to the rocky ground. After scanning the ground for a few seconds his sight finally settled back on the little golden flowers. One of them, he could have sworn, was waving a little leaf at him as though it were a hand. But that would be impossible. The wind perhaps? But rarely had anything swaying in the wind looked so animated before. That thing, was not being rustled by the wind. The leaf was folding up and down like some puppeteered monstrosity. And the harder and longer he looked, the more the hair on the back of his neck bristled. The flower had two black beady little eyes gazing up at him. 

"H-...h-..." He was going to say hi, but for some reason even a small word like that couldn't come out. 

"Howdy!" it chirped cheerfully back at him. 

"You're a bump."

"What?" The flower uncomfortably looked side to side, "I'm not a bump, you silly goose!" He smiled and winked. "I'm Flowey! I'm a flower." 

"You're just a bump on my head. A hallucination." He quickly raised a hand to feel himself on the head but there didn't seem to be any indication he was injured. 

"Hm, you seem to be a bit lost, friend. If you hit your head, I can heal you. Here. Around here we help each other out with these little things called friendliness p-"

"You're not really here. This isn't.... _possible._ "

Flowey squinted and sucked his teeth impatiently. "Look. Buddy. I'm tired of getting interrupt-" 

"It's a coma maybe. I really fell down pretty far. Or maybe it's just the shock. I probably knocked something loose in my head." 

"Hey!" Flowey snapped, eyes raging and teeth sharpening into pinpoints. "I'm a _talking flower_! Can you stop ignoring me for five seconds and look at me. Since when, in your entire _life_ have you ever seen a literal talking plant? Now stop whining about your head and listen to me!" 

The man gritted his teeth and took in a deep breath. This thing, whatever it was, had to be harmless. Right? He conjured it up in his own mind. It didn't seem plausible that something from his own mind would be able to hurt him. Maybe listening wasn't too bad an idea, afterall it was trying to get him to calm down. He nodded for the flower to continue.

"So, as I was saying there, pal, I can take a look at that bruise on your head for ya!" It suddenly resumed it's cheerful tone as it summoned a row of seeds. It was a bit disorienting to see them floating in the air in a perfect row, but next to the talking flower, he couldn't really say flying seeds were out of place. "These are 'friendliness pellets.' Down here, we use these to spread our love and affection. Here! Just put your head right into these pellets, and you will feel much _much_ better." 

"What? You want me to stick my fucking head into a bunch of levitating seeds?"

Flowey's smile twitched slightly upon hearing the f word but he tried to brush it aside. "It's not just any kinda seed, buddy. It's a _magical_ seed. Come on. Give it a try." 

He glinted a moment, wondering what on earth his addled brain was actually looking at in that moment. For all he knew, he was talking to a briar bush and about to jam his head in it. Maybe listening to the hallucination was a bad idea after all. "I really need to sit down," was all he could think let alone say. He hunched down to the ground and gripped his forehead a moment to try and think, but it was getting very hard to think with the flower glinting him down. 

"Wow. You really are- something else," the flower said through gritted teeth. "Ya know, most humans aren't this anxious. You're really weird." He dispelled the seeds and snaked closer to the man through the dirt. 

"What? Says the fucking yellow talking flower. What the hell am I supposed to act like? Am I supposed to be thrilled that I'm finally losing it? I've probably got some internal bleeding in my fucking head and the best my dumb ass can do in a state of mortal emergency is yammer away at a figment of my own imagination. Now will you just shut the fuck up for one second and let me think!" 

The flower was taken aback at being talked to like this. He wasn't used to such vulgarity, especially not being directed to him. He was so ready in that instant to take this filthy disgusting human and turn his whole world upside down. He was so eager to rip this human limb from limb and snap his neck like a twig. Little vines inched up from the dirt and started to wrap around his legs. The human didn't even notice. He was more preoccupied with his mental breakdown. 

"And my phone is dead! So whoop-dee-fuckin-doo! I'm probably gonna starve down here, and spend my last waking moments arguing with an imaginary house plant. Oh that'll be a really dignified way to go out, won't it?"

As the flower pondered the situation though, the vines gradually retracted back into the dirt. "Wow, you're really losing it huh. You're totally nutty."

"Yeah. Nuttier than a protein bar," the man grumbled and rubbed his head. 

The flower giggled with delight. This was absolutely perfect.

"Relax little guy. It wasn't that funny," the man said uneasily but the flower's little giggles turned into full blown cackles. 

"You know what? I like you. How about we play a game."

"A game? What?" He was starting to get out of his daze. "Look I don't have time for that I just ne-"

"Need to get out of here?" the flower asked with an innocent little smile on his face.

"Yeah," the man responded tiredly. He couldn't believe he was engaging the damn thing, but it was so hard to ignore.

"Then I really _really_ think you'll like my game, friend!" The flower sounded perhaps a little bit too happy with the situation.

"Ok. This too weird." He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as he tried to make sense of it. What was going on his head? "Alright... You must be my subconscious. You're trying to keep my mind on track, keep me focused on the current goal... right? And that goal is getting the hell out of here."

The flower couldn't believe how absolutely idiotic this man was. It was so perfect. "Yeah!" He said trying as hard as he could to keep a straight face. "So you need to really listen and do everything I say, ok?"

The man grimaced at that suggestion but gave a shrug. "Ok flower, where to?"

"There's an exit to these ruins, way over there, through all these catacombs." The flower pointed with a little leaf to an entrance. The man hadn't even noticed it before. "I'll race you there. Just remember, all the stories about the monsters in the mountain. They might not like seeing a human down here." The flower's face twisted into something grotesque. It's eyes looked like gaping voids as it's teeth formed into giant hideous fangs. "Here, it's kill or be killed."

It was a rather unsettling image for his mind to conjure. His jaw locked and his eyes went wide as he watched the flower's face slowly go back to normal, or at least as normal as a face for a talking flower could be.

"But you look like you're already cut out for that, killer." The flower winked and pointed a little leaf to the cold rabbit corpse tied to the man's pack. He glanced down at it and wanted to say something in response but as soon as he looked back up, the flower was gone.

"I really fucking need help," he muttered softly to himself as he reluctantly walked toward the catacombs. He had recalled stories of monsters in the mountain. But he had always figured them for stories. Many people though, especially the older folk swore by their validity. And while the man was always skeptical about it in the past, he was starting to wonder if this flower he encountered was actually very real. How did it see something that he didn't? He didn't know there was a doorway there. Moreover, how did it know there were catacombs through the doorway. The man had more or less assumed he was in a giant cavern. There was no way for a hallucination to know something he didn't. Recalling the interaction made him shudder. 

Maybe, just maybe, that flower was real. And maybe, just like the old stories used to say, maybe that little flower was a monster.


End file.
